


Forty & Fabulous

by Sandyclaws68



Series: Making Moments Count [14]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Happy Birthday Iruka-sensei, Iruka has trouble dealing, Iruka loves him anyway, Kakashi does what he does best, Kakashi makes Iruka crazy, M/M, Marriage, birthday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 01:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18355364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandyclaws68/pseuds/Sandyclaws68
Summary: Iruka has an assortment of reasons for dreading his next birthday and Kakashi is determined to make all of them go away





	Forty & Fabulous

“It’s a grey hair, isn’t it?  Isn’t it?!”

Kakashi glanced toward where his husband stood half inside his closet, sorting through his clothes for that one particular shirt that he always wore to work on Wednesdays.  But something else had apparently caught his attention, and Kakashi had to resist the urge to sigh. He had been expecting this, after all.

“Iruka -”

“Look!” his husband all but shouted, dangling something invisible before Kakashi’s face.  When his hand moved, though, a glint of light caught on what he held between his thumb and index finger.  Kakashi carefully took hold of it and brought it to his face.

“It’s a blond hair, Iruka.  And judging by the ash tone to it I’d say it’s Boruto’s.”  He tried not to laugh at the incredulous expression on his husband’s face.

“If you’re lying to make me feel better. . .”

“I’m not.”  Kakashi stretched the hair to its full length.  “Besides, look how short it is. Definitely not yours, sensei.”  Iruka had decided to let his hair grow just over four months ago and the longest sections now reached almost two inches below his shoulder blades.

The man in question sighed and dropped down to sit on their bed as if his knees had suddenly gone weak.  He gave his head a shake and snorted once in disgust. “I’m an idiot,” he commented. “All this fuss over a stupid birthday.”

And there it was, finally, out in the open.  Kakashi knew that while Iruka loved birthdays and the attendant celebrations he was actively dreading his next one, for in just over a month he would be turning forty.  An old man in shinobi years.

Not that he looked it.  The thick, dark hair, with its reddish overtones, was still the same shade of auburn it had always been.  Regular training and sparring sessions meant his body was as fit as ever, and last night had proved that his libido was every bit as active as it was nearly twenty years ago when their relationship had first begun.  The only real signs of age that Kakashi could see were the lines bracketing the bridge of his nose (most likely caused by his habitual teacher’s scowl) and the blue framed reading glasses that were often perched on top of his head.

“You’re not an idiot,” he declared, dropping to sit beside Iruka on the bed and run his fingers through the loose fall of dark hair.  “You’re just. . .” His voice faded as he tried to find the right words. “You’re just having a little trouble getting used to growing older.  We all go through it.” That was certainly true, especially in a profession like theirs where a life was, more often than not, cut short.

“I don’t recall you getting this freaked out about some grey hair,” Iruka grumbled, gently knocking his head against his husband’s.

Kakashi laughed out loud.  “Why would I?” he asked, gesturing to his silver-since-birth hair.  “I had my whole life to get used to this.”

“That’s true,” Iruka said with a soft chuckle.  Then he sighed. “I wish I knew why this is having such an effect on me.  It’s not like turning forty is the end of my life.”

“No, but - “ Kakashi pressed a kiss to fragrant dark hair “- it’s the first birthday in a while that Naruto won’t be here to celebrate with you.  That’s bound to have an impact.”

The reminder caused Iruka’s face to fall.  There was an economic summit for the five Kage and a slew of feudal lords scheduled to take place the weekend of Iruka’s birthday and the Hokage’s absence would have been all too noticeable.  Naruto had tried every bit of charm and trickery in his soul to get the dates changed but with no luck. Iruka had made like it was no big deal to his de facto kid brother’s face but once alone with Kakashi had allowed his disappointment to show.

Like he was doing now.  “Would it have killed the organizers of this summit to move it forward one day?  Just one? It’s not too much to ask, is it?”

Kakashi’s reply was nothing more than a grunt; they had been over this subject numerous times and he knew well enough that his husband didn’t require a response.  Plus he was too busy counting himself lucky that he had avoided an order from the daimyo to attend the same summit. Having both of them out of town for his birthday would have, quite possibly, sent Iruka over the edge.

So instead he leaned away from his husband a tiny bit, just enough to see the clock on the dresser.  “If you don’t hurry up you’ll be late for class, sensei,” he said, giving Iruka’s shoulders an affectionate squeeze before getting to his feet.  He didn’t mention the rest of the issue as he watched Iruka race around the house to get ready; he was expecting Yamato, Shizune, and Kurenai for a birthday party planning session and really needed the other man out of the house.

****~**~**~**~**~****

“Senpai.”

Kakashi gave one last wave to Kurenai and Shizune before they passed the gate and off of the property, knowing it would annoy Yamato to be ignored.  He waited a few extra seconds, hearing the frustrated inhale behind him, before turning around, eyes curved in his trademark smile. “Yes, Tenzou?”

Yamato raised one eyebrow before exhaling in an exasperated huff and retreating back into the house.  The clattering of the tea things drifted from the kitchen as Kakashi made himself comfortable at the low table in the living room, waiting for the inevitable scolding he was bound to get from his friend.  As far as Kakashi was concerned half the fun of spending time with Yamato was in annoying the man past the point of no return.

He managed not to jump when a tray with the tea set clattered on the table in front of him, but it was a close thing.  When Yamato dropped to the cushion beside him he carefully lifted one of the cups and took a sip, placing it back gently when his friend sighed.  “Why are you trying to plan some sort of extravagant birthday celebration for Iruka-sensei?” the other man asked. “You know he’d be perfectly happy with just a few close friends having dinner at Ichiraku’s if that’s what you suggested.  There’s no need for all of this. . .” Yamato’s voice trailed off as he waved vaguely.

“Going overboard?” Kakashi put in.  At Yamato’s questioning look he went on.  “That’s what Iruka says whenever I get a little out of control.”  He grinned. “Ask him sometime about his twenty-fourth birthday if you really want to know.”

Yamato’s shudder was visible from the other side of the table.  “No, thanks,” he commented, absolutely sure he  _ never _ wanted to know.  “But, seriously -”

“I know, Tenzou,” Kakashi interrupted.  “But did it ever occur to you that I want this extravagance to distract Iruka from who won’t be there?  Namely Naruto?”

****~**~**~**~**~****

It was a week later before the next crisis occurred.  It had been one of those days that made Iruka regret accepting the job as Academy principal; teaching eight year olds how to throw badly balanced shuriken would have been easy compared to some of the discipline issues he confronted.  When he arrived home all he wanted to do was take a long soak in the bath and drop into bed.

Which meant, of course, that those were the last things he was able to do.

The familiar, raucous sounds of Kakashi and Gai sparring were clearly audible from the courtyard, but that wasn’t what really caught Iruka’s attention.  It was the high-pitched cheering sounds he could hear in a trio of all too familiar voices. He sighed, detoured into his home office to dump his bag, and made his way through the house to the central courtyard, sliding the shouji door open with a bang.

The normally serene space was filled with people, dogs, and noise, so much that Iruka had to resist the urge to cover his ears.  All eight of the ninken were in attendance, shouting and barking encouragement to Kakashi in the fight. But the most noise was coming from a trio of boys, each looking about five or six years old and clearly invested in their favorite of the two sparring shinobi.  Underneath the cheers, though, it was clear that Boruto, Metal, and Shikadai were about five seconds away from a fight of their own.

Iruka stuck two fingers in his mouth and let out a piercing whistle, making the ninken whine in pain and everyone else freeze.  Kakashi was the first to recover from his surprise, dispelling the ninken and approaching his husband with a guarded smile. “Iruka -”

Whatever else he had planned to say was drowned out by a shriek of “‘ruka-jiji!” a moment before Iruka was all but bowled over by Boruto slamming into his legs.  He staggered, grunted, and managed to stay on his feet and glare at his husband. “Gai,” he said in a dangerously calm voice as he detached Boruto from his leg, “can you please take the boys inside and get them cleaned up?  I need to talk to Kakashi. Alone.”

A lesser man might have quavered under the combined force of Iruka’s icy voice and penetrating glare, but Kakashi was made of sterner stuff.  Plus he had spent years developing an appropriate poker face so his husband would never know how shaken he tended to get by the younger man’s anger.  So he watched his friend and the three small boys disappear into the house, hoping the brief interval would allow Iruka to settle down. “Iruka -” he began again.

Iruka held up one hand, stopping whatever words were coming.  “I don’t want to hear the whole story,” he said, rubbing his forehead wearily.  “Just tell me if you were supposed to be babysitting the boys.”

“Well, technically the ninken were.”

“Kakashi.”  Iruka’s tone was more than enough warning, so Kakashi launched into a proper, and succinct, explanation.

“Hinata was called to the hospital to assist with a surgery that needed the Byakugan’s precision and she dropped the kids off here.”  He glanced up at the sky, gauging the position of the sun. “She should be back in about an hour. Gai was already here and I didn’t see a reason for us to not have a bit of spar, since the boys were eager to watch, and Himawari -”

“Wait, WHAT?!” Iruka’s voice rose almost to a shriek.  “Himawari is here too? Where, Kakashi?”

“I put her down for a nap about forty minutes ago,” was the calm response.  “There’s a chakra net around the bed to alert me the minute she wakes up, so I didn’t think leaving her alone would be an issue.”

“Yes, I can see that you didn’t think, Kakashi!”  Iruka rubbed one finger across his scar before pressing the heel of his hand against one temple.  “You know I am dreading this birthday so why are you so determined to give me grey hair and wrinkles?”

For a moment Kakashi was tempted to get angry and respond to his husband in kind, but he squashed that impulse.  He knew Iruka wasn’t really mad at him; in a more rational mood he would admit that all eight ninken and a chakra alert system were effective babysitting options.  It was just that right now he was clearly not at his most rational and reasonable, and if he had to guess Kakashi would pin the blame on a rough day at the Academy.

That and all of the negative feelings he was suppressing about his upcoming birthday, which tended to come out at odd times.  Like now.

So he waited, not speaking, until the tension left his husband’s shoulders before tugging down his mask and stepping close enough to lay a hand on Iruka’s arm, gently sliding it down to entwine their fingers.  “Iruka,” he said, so softly it was more felt than heard. “You don’t have grey hair and any wrinkles you might have -” Kakashi paused to smooth out the furrow on the other man’s forehead. “- are more from years of teaching recalcitrant students than dealing with your crazy husband.”  He smiled when Iruka finally tilted his head so their eyes could meet. “Besides, if my tenure as Hokage didn’t give you wrinkles I don’t think anything ever could!”

One corner of Iruka’s mouth lifted; a small, but unmistakable smile.  “I suppose you’re right,” he whispered, angling his head in a silent request for a kiss.  Kakashi complied with alacrity and they were able to get lost, each in the other, for a long moment.

They broke apart when a crash sounded from the kitchen, followed by an aggrieved cry from Boruto.  Iruka groaned and dropped his forehead to his husband’s shoulder. “Nothing else could give me wrinkles?” he asked as a full scale argument broke out inside, shouts interspersed with Gai’s attempts to smooth the situation over.

“Well, I have been wrong before.”

****~**~**~**~**~****

The week of Iruka’s birthday began with a violent thunderstorm, unusual for the time of year.  It was so bad that the Hokage’s departure for the economic summit had to be delayed by a day, making Iruka fret over whether or not it was safe for them to travel.  When he suggested, in a roundabout way, that Kakashi should accompany their former student to “keep an eye on things” his husband had huffed out a laugh and tugged Iruka down to his lap.

“Iruka, he’s not a twelve year old genin anymore.  He’s a grown man, married with two children, and the Hokage.  I’m pretty sure he can keep an eye on things himself.”

At that reminder of Naruto’s age (and what his own would be after the impending birthday) Iruka didn’t speak to his husband for the rest of the day.  Which, in a way, suited Kakashi just fine as he was meeting with a number of their friends to finalize the plans for the big birthday party that weekend.

His first stop of the day was at Genma and Anko’s, where he had to, yet again, threaten them with grievous bodily harm if they followed through on their idea of a penis-shaped cake.  He was fairly certain that Anko kept bringing it up because she knew it annoyed him; he trusted her to never do anything that would genuinely upset Iruka. Genma, of course, was another matter entirely, but by the time he left Kakashi was fairly certain that his offhand comment about sticking “that senbon where the sun doesn’t shine” had been effective.

He decided to leave Shizune and Kurenai alone; he highly doubted that whatever they had chosen as decorations would be inappropriate in any way.  Gai had been placed in charge of food and alcohol, ably assisted by Ino and Choji, so checking in on them didn’t take long at all. Lee and Tenten were working on transcribing all of the well wishes sent from far-flung friends and comrades onto scrolls with beautiful calligraphy (one of Lee’s hidden talents) so he left them to it.

His last stop of the day was Training Field 8, which Yamato had been in charge of transforming from a bare, open stretch of ground to a beautiful garden setting for the party.  Kakashi found him there, putting the last few touches onto a pergola that was large enough to accomodate all of the expected guests. As he watched Yamato clapped his hands together and vines immediately started to wind their way up the trellises that were evenly spaced down the length of the structure.  Kiba, Shino, and Konohamaru were stringing lights along the beams that made up the partial roof, assisted by a few of Shino’s larger insects.

Unable to hold back how impressed he was Kakashi started to applaud, catching his friend’s attention.  “You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Tenzou!” he exclaimed as he walked beneath the pergola to where Yamato stood.  “It’s. . .” His voice trailed off with a chuckle. “I don’t think I have words, to be honest.”

Yamato flushed and ducked his head, but Kakashi had known him long enough to catch his subtle preening.  When he lifted his head, however, Yamato was all business. “Thank you, senpai,” he briskly acknowledged Kakashi’s praise.  “I just need to know the final count of guests before I make the tables and chairs.”

“Can you wait until tomorrow?  Izumo and Kotetsu are due back from a mission tonight and they haven’t officially said yes.  And it wouldn’t be a party for Iruka without the two of them.”

****~**~**~**~**~****

The party proved to be a huge success.  The simple fact that they were able to keep it a secret from Iruka - a man who all but lived at the root of Konoha’s grapevine - made that success all the more satisfying to Kakashi.  Iruka’s undeniable pleasure at the site of all his friends gathered to celebrate his life was the icing on the cake.

The non penis-shaped cake, thank heaven.

The party lasted long into the night, long after the meal had been eaten, the cake had been cut, and Iruka’s former students had left to take their children home.  The alcohol flowed a little freer after that, much of it into Genma’s mouth. Gai grew louder and more exuberant with every drink he had, Anko and Izumo became a little belligerent, and Shizune fell asleep with her head in Yamato’s lap.

That was the point at which Kakashi called a halt and, with Kurenai and Raidou’s help, managed to get everyone sorted out and to their homes with a minimum of fuss.  Last but not least he made his own way home with his slightly drunk husband, arm slung across Iruka’s shoulders to keep him steady.

“That was a great party, ‘kashi,” Iruka not-quite-slurred, leaning heavily against his husband’s side.

Kakashi kissed his temple.  “I’m glad you had such a good time, love,” he whispered.  “You deserve the best of everything.”

The next morning - Iruka’s actual birthday - Kakashi rose later than was his normal practice, made a vastly shortened trip to the Memorial Stone, and was home in time to cook his husband breakfast.  It was all plated and waiting on the table when Iruka stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes and hair a tangled mess down his back.

“Good morning,” he greeted with a tiny smile, stepping close to kiss Iruka’s warm cheek.  “I made your favorite breakfast. And -” He pointed to a pair of white tables beside one of the place settings.  “- there's aspirin if you need it.”

Iruka scowled.  “I didn’t drink that much, Kakashi,” he protested, albeit weakly.  The aspirin did disappear from the table while his husband’s back was turned, though.

After eating they spent a leisurely day, taking a long walk through the hills surrounding the village with the ninken, followed by an equally long nap on their sun-warmed sofa.  Towards evening clouds started to gather and before long the first rumbles of thunder were heard and rain began falling in blinding sheets. By the time dinner was eaten and cleared away the rain had stopped, although the clouds and thunder lingered.

While he was finishing up the last of the kitchen chores Kakashi noticed that Iruka had slipped away, so after everything was done he turned off the kitchen lights and followed the traces of chakra he could feel until he found his husband.  Iruka was seated on the edge of the walkway that surrounded the central courtyard of the house, gazing at the still cloudy sky, looking dejected. When Kakashi sat beside him he leaned against one shoulder.

“Thank you for today, Kakashi.”

Startled, Kakashi glanced down at the head of dark hair pressed against him.  “For what?” he asked, genuinely puzzled. “I didn’t do anything special.”

Iruka rubbed his cheek against Kakashi’s shoulder before raising his head so their eyes could meet.  “You may not have done it consciously, but you kept me away from the village, away from things that would remind me of the person who wasn’t here to celebrate my birthday, and I -”

His words were interrupted by a sudden and resounding crash from the front of the house that froze the pair of them for a moment before they sprinted off, shinobi senses on full alert.  When they got to the front door Kakashi drew a kunai from a hidden compartment in the doorframe and gestured for Iruka to take up a position on the opposite side of the portal. Then he threw open the door.

To be greeted by an enormous form that glowed a familiar yellowish-orange.  “Kurama!” Iruka shouted, running heedlessly out the door.

The deep voice of the Nine-tails resonated down to their bone.  “Sensei. Rokudaime-sama,” he greeted before shifting his transparent body enough so the unconscious person within him slid to the ground at Iruka’s feet.

“Naruto?!” Iruka gasped, sinking to his knees to brush bright blond hair away from the Hokage’s face.  “How. . . Why. . .” he stuttered, looking up at the towering chakra figure above him.

“He wanted to make it home in time to wish you a happy birthday, sensei, so he pushed himself past his limits.”  The body of the tailed beast began to shrink and his voice grew softer. “He’ll recover soon enough once all of this chakra is returned to him.”  And with one last pulse of light the form of Kurama disappeared, chakra melting into Naruto’s skin.

The light from Naruto’s bijuu form had barely faded when his eyes fluttered and then opened, a hint of confusion in his gaze.  But clarity quickly returned and he jack-knifed to a sitting position, staring up at Kakashi. “Am I in time? Did I make it?” A melodious chuckle from behind him made him turn, and in between one heartbeat and the next he threw himself at Iruka, enveloping the other man in his tightest hug.  “I was afraid I would miss it,” he whispered. “Happy Birthday, Iruka-nii.”

Kakashi felt a smile curve his lips as all of the tension he had been carrying for the past week smoothed out of Iruka’s face, making him look ten years younger.  His heart swelled with love for the pair of them as they held each other close; brief, whispered words exchanged that Kakashi studiously ignored.

Then just as suddenly as Naruto had embraced him Iruka pulled back, teacher’s scowl firmly in place, and smacked their Hokage on the back of the head.  “Idiot! You didn’t have to push yourself so hard to make it back for my birthday! I knew you would think of me, even hundreds of miles away!” He rose smoothly to his feet and pulled Naruto up after him.  “Have you eaten at all today? We have some leftovers from last night’s party that I’ll heat up.” He looked the other man up and down. “You’ll stay here with us tonight and get a good night’s sleep. Honestly -” He moved toward the door, an arm slung across Naruto’s shoulders.  “ you’d think that a Hokage would be able to take care of himself.”

Naruto, who’s mouth had been gaping open throughout the tirade, knew better than to argue.  He went with his beloved big brother, one last pleading glance cast Kakashi’s way, who just shook his head and grinned, moving to follow the pair.  He stopped, though, when his eye was caught by a gleam of something pale against Iruka’s dark shirt. Reaching out Kakashi caught hold of it, angling it towards the light streaming through their front door.

It was a strand of hair, its color a beautiful, shiny silver.

And it was definitely long enough to have come from Iruka’s head.

“Kakashi?  Are you coming?

He glanced up and met Iruka’s eyes, smiling at the other man’s happiness.  He gave his hand a shake, dislodging the grey hair and letting it float away on the breeze.  That was an issue to be addressed some other time.

“Yup, I’m right behind you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kakashi telling Yamato to ask about Iruka's 24th birthday is a reference to my fic _Going Overboard_.  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/4011901  
> I've added this to my "Making Moments Count" series. I didn't have that in mind when I wrote it, but it just fits that continuity so danged well! :D


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